Consequences
by ElizaPowell
Summary: Eighteen years haved passed over the castle, Belle and Vincent's son is soon to go to Italy, but the Enchantress' daughter knows of the horrible fate to come if he is not protected, leaving, she escapes a horrible fate herself, but greater danger comes.
1. Chapter One

_Light seeped through the bottom of the door, releasing the only light in the room. Coldness and the unfriendly feeling of being watched surrounded the young man. Trying to escape the darkness, he made his way to the door. The closer he got the colder it became. Yet, he pushed onward. __Hand trembling__, he reached for a doorknob. Thankfully, there was one. Grasping it in his hand, slowly he twisted it, pausing only when he heard his name._

"_Tristan…"_

_It was a young woman's voice. __He looked around, but it was impossible to see anyone. Quickly he opened the door. Immediately the bright light blinded him. He tried to block it with his hand, but it was too bright. _

"_Prince Tristan…Please…do not leave…home, Prince Tristan..."_

The dream was over. 17-year-old Prince Tristan opened his eyes to see Pierce, his valet. Light from the open window lit up the room. Rubbing his brown eyes groggily, he looked around his chambers. The room appeared the same as he had left it before sleeping.

"Almost time for breakfast, Pierce?" Tristan yawned, getting up slowly. He allowed himself to be dressed, which was done sooner than his tired body wished it to be.

Pierce cleared his throat. "Yes your majesty, but King Alexander and Queen Belle wish to speak with you privately in the drawing room before breakfast is served."

This was uncommon. The last time his parents had spoken with him "privately" was to reprimand him, but lately he had been pretty well behaved. What could they want to speak with him about? "Alright then, Pierce, tell them I will be there shortly," Tristan said, looking at himself in the mirror.

Brushing away strands of his brown hair, he exhaled. _Might as well see what is going on._ Tristan swiftly left the comfort of his room for the drawing room.

…

"Vincent, it is not safe," Belle said worriedly as she paced the drawing room. "Tristan has never been so far from home without the company of at least one of us."

Vincent sighed in annoyance. He and Belle had been discussing the matter of Tristan handling the affairs in Italy on his own for the past week. Yet Belle would not stop worrying about his well being.

"Belle, please listen to me. The boy will be fine!" Vincent exclaimed. "He will have have guards with him. He'll be perfectly safe."

"I don't know…"

Taking Belle by the shoulders, Vincent went on, "He will be well taken care of. Tristan is close to manhood, and not too far off from becoming king…you can't hold onto him forever."

Belle knew Vincent was right. Their son would be fine, but nothing could silence a mother's worry, especially hers. "Your right…" Belle breathed, smiling, "I can't hold on forever, can I?"

"Sorry, but no," Vincent replied kissing her forehead. "You can always hold on to _me_ though," he added affectionately. Italicize "me."

"I know that," Belle replied, giving him a kiss.

Their conversation came to an abrupt end when they heard the light knock at the door.

"Come in," Belle answered.

The door opened and Tristan stepped in. Smiling nervously, he said, "Good morning," closing the door behind him.

Nodding uneasily herself, Belle greeted him, "Yes, good morning, dear." She hugged him tightly, as though he were already leaving.

"Belle…" Vincent warned.

As Tristan released his mother, he noticed that she looked sad. "What did you want to speak with me about?" he asked anxiously.

Moving by her husband, she looked at him, then to the floor.

"What is going on?" Tristan asked, his very nerves on edge.

Vincent could not stand it any longer. He told his son, "Your mother and I have been discussing the thought of you going to Italy for the summer to handle important affairs, in my place."

Nothing could have shocked Tristan more. "You want…me to go?" he asked excitedly, not being able to suppress the smile that grew upon his face.

"Yes," Vincent answered proudly.

"Without one of you…with me?" Tristan asked.

"Yes," Belle replied somberly, nodding. "Do you still want to go?"

Trying his very best to control himself, Tristan said eagerly, "Yes, it would be an honor!"

Grinning broadly, Vincentshook Tristan's hand vigorously. "Great! I'll get someone on the preparations immediately, but now let's go have breakfast. Your sisters should be up by now, and they'll want to hear of this wonderful news!"

While they walked to the dining room, Belle walked slowly behind them. Was she being too nervous? She couldn't help it; it was one of her children being exposed to dangers she could not protect him from. This was what her father had warned her about, the hardships of letting go.

…

"Mother… I must go; Prince Tristan's future depends on it."

Enchantress Jessamine looked at her daughter warningly. "Didn't you warn him in the dream? Alera, it is not safe there! How many times must I tell you this? Only under certain circumstances are we able to help the humans."

Pulling her scarlet hair away from her face, Alera retorted, "Yes I did warn him! Anyways this is a special circumstance! A young man's life is in danger, and I'm going to protect him." Tristan was too kind to die now; Alera would not allow it to happen, especially in such a tragic way. "Have you seen my mirror?"

"You can not leave!"

Glaring at her mother, Alera shouted, "I am not a child anymore, mother. I can handle things on my own if you just gave me a chance!"

"You are only sixteen, so still a child you are! And still so inexperienced in your powers," Jessamine scolded. Alera could be so stubborn at times! Taking her daughter by the shoulders, Jessamine looked into her face, so innocent. "Alera…I know how you feel, wanting to protect every human you see, but sometimes…nature has to take care of things we are not to meddle in."

Backing away, Alera argued, "You helped his father though…turning him into a beast, making him learn to love and get love in return. How is saving a man ifrom his state of mind rank over saving a man's LIFE?"

Sixteen, and already her daughter spoke as though she was older than she truly was. "I do not approve, Alera."

"I know, but I will just make certain that he is safe, and then I'll come home," Alera promised.

"Things may go wrong," Jessamine warned. "I will not be there to help you, and if you ask for help, I will not help."

Grabbing her bag of supplies, Alera said confidently, "Mother, I will not need your help. All I need is the reassurance that you will be here when I come back."

Hugging Alera, Jessamine promised, "I will be here, waiting…even if you change your mind."

Alera just shook her head at her mother's final attempt to stop her, then took out her mirror, the very image of the one Jessamine had once given to the former Beast-Prince, King Vincent. Looking into the mirror at her reflection, she thought, _No turning back now.' _Alera thought. Breathing deeply, she mentally added, _Please work! _

"Take me to Prince Tristan!"

The whole room lit up so brightly that neither Jessamine or Alera could see. A moment later, the light was gone – and so was Alera. Jessamine was alone. Jessamine was tempted to follow her, watch over her, but Jessamine had been just like her daughter when it came to the Beast and the enchanted objects. Things had all worked out well for them, without her watchful eye constantly on them; hopefully her daughter would be just as lucky at saving the young prince.

…


	2. Chapter Two

Tristan silently walked around the grounds of the castle. The sun was just rising, and the morning chill was just starting to depart. He was dressed in a plain outfit, his belongings were packed, and the carriages were being made ready to depart to Italy.

It was only a week ago that his parents told him about the trip, and now it was really happening! It was difficult for him to believe that he was actually leaving. The idea was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating: terrifying to be going so far from his family, which brought fears of not being with them if something terrible were to happen, but exhilarating to think of seeing so much of the world and having a grand adventure, as well as having the chance to show all of France and much of Europe that the young prince had matured and come into his own, out of his father's shadow. He felt as though a door was opening and his life was truly about to begin.

"Tristan?"

He looked behind him, and a smile came to his face. "Giselle, what are you doing out?"

Running up to her brother, the five-year-old climbed into Tristan's open arms. "Charlotte said you are going to leave forever!" This was typical of Charlotte, Giselle's elder sister by seven years, who had a knack of lying to Giselle for her own amusement.

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, she did, did she?"

"Yes! Tristan…you're not, are you?" She hugged her brother's neck. "Please! Don't leave forever!"

Tristan petted Giselle's honey-colored hair. "I could never do that, even if I tried. Mother would never allow it. Besides, I'd miss you far too much! How could I ever bear to be away from you forever?" Tristan set Giselle back upon the ground, he sighed in mock dismay. "I guess I'll just have to…not bring any gifts back from Italy for Charlotte then…"

A girl of twelve came out from the bushes. "What?!"

"Well, Charlotte, it is the only fair solution, so you'll learn not to lie," Tristan explained. Gazing upon Charlotte who had shock and disappointment upon her face, he could not help but smile. This was one of the highlights of leaving. "Unless maybe…you were to apologize."

"I'm sorry Giselle!" Charlotte apologized quickly. She swiftly turned her head to Tristan. "There. I apologized."

"Give her a hug."

Charlotte hugged Giselle tightly. "She is crushing me!" Giselle exclaimed breathlessly.

"Alright then, it seems you've learned your lesson," Tristan said contentedly.

Releasing her younger sister, Charlotte asked impatiently, "Will you bring me back a present?"

Tristan grinned. "Of course. But only if you can beat me to the stables!"

Both girls ran as soon as these words left his lips. Chuckling, he ran after them, just making sure to be right behind them. This was probably what he would miss the most when he was gone: being with his sisters. True, they could be annoying, but they could also be just as lovable.

Charlotte was the first to the stables. Breathing heavily, she looked back. No one was in sight.

"Beat them again, Princess Charlotte?" came a voice behind her.

She smiled widely. "Sure did, Oliver!" Charlotte loved no other servant more than Oliver.

Oliver brushed the white horse's mane with a brush. "Your brother leaves today, no?"

Charlotte looked at the dirt ground. "Yes," she replied gloomily.

"Do not sound so upset," Oliver said, trying to cheer up the little princess. He smirked, just like his father, Lumiere. "He will be home sooner than you can imagine."

"How do you know, Oliver?"

"I just know. Your father has gone to Italy before, and he was not gone that long, was he?"

Charlotte shook her head. "No, it is not very long, but still long…"

"Yes, but-" He didn't get to finish, because at that moment, someone called his name.

"Oliver!"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Cogsworth, I'm here!"

Seconds later, Cogsworth came in, red in the face and with strands of hair from his wig out of place. "Oliver, what are you doing here?! You are needed elsewhere!"

"No," Oliver said blankly, "I am needed _here._ You know, 'stable boy'?"

Cogsworth glared at the sixteen year old. "No you foolish boy! I told you yesterday that you'd be helping your father today in the kitchen. Of course you never listen, so I guess it is my fault, believing you could actually listen to me for a change."

Exhaling and trying not to lose his temper, Oliver placed the brush on a nearby stool and walked out, muttering words in French, about how he was a "stable boy" and how Cogsworth was losing his mind.

"That boy will be the very end of me," Cogsworth murmured.

"What was that Cogsworth?" Charlotte asked.

"Wha-what?!" Cogsworth hadn't noticed the princess standing in the corner. He snapped to attention. "Oh, dear, your highness, what are you doing here?"

Looking out the stable door, Charlotte replied, "I'm waiting for Giselle and Tristan. Have you seen them?"

Cogsworth nodded. "Yes, I sent them home; Prince Tristan will be leaving soon."

"All right. Thank you Cogsworth," Charlotte replied, running from the stables. No need to walk back with Cogsworth; she knew it would just give him reason to baby her, telling her not to rush, be careful, and then later on she would have to listen to him mutter curses under his breath.

…

The feelings Charlotte felt as Tristan departed were feelings she never wished to experience again. She watched silently with her parents and sister as the carriages left with her brother. It felt like he was leaving forever.

A reassuring hand rested on her shoulder. Charlotte looked back to see her father smiling at her. "Time will go by fast, Charlotte," Vincent told his daughter.

Chocking back tears, she nodded. "I hope so…"

Gathering Giselle in his arms, Vincent turned to Charlotte and Belle. He sighed, "Let's get back inside."

Belle took Charlotte by the hand squeezing it, trying to comfort both her daughter and herself. This would be a long summer for Belle and her family; that was for certain.

_**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review. And thanks a million to TrudiRose who brilliantly edited this chapter! Thank you everyone!**_


	3. Chapter Three

Time had not gone by quickly as Tristan wished it would. Boredom was constant. It had been three days now, but _finally _the journey was nearing its end! Looking out of the carriage window, Tristan knew he'd soon be in Italy, and no longer on French land.

Reclined in his seat, he closed his eyes. Relaxed as he was, he was not prepared for what came next.

Hoof beats not belonging to the carriage horses came out of nowhere. The carriages stopped, and yells were exchanged from outside. Speedily Tristan got out from the carriage to see a distressing sight: they were under attack!

The guards began to fight off the mob. Screams, threats, and the clanging of swords were exchanged. Tristan reacted quickly. He would not allow his men to fight with out him! He grabbed a sword from inside his carriage and prepared to fight. He didn't have long to wait.

A man about ten years older than Tristan thrust his sword at the prince. Tristan parried. As the swords beat against each other the man pressed his attack, gradually pushing Tristan farther into the woodland area, away from the others. This was not good.

Tristan avoided getting hit multiple times, hitting back just as hard, but soon he noticed they he was too far away to call for help.

The older man was getting tired; he needed to kill Tristan quickly! Tristan's sword had blocked his. But with all his strength, the man pushed his sword against Tristan's, pushing the prince up against a tree. With his free hand he took a dagger out and placed it against Tristan's neck. "Don't move, boy!" the man ordered.

Giving in, Tristan stopped moving. Alas, obeying the man's command did nothing to save him. With an evil grin, the man plunged the dagger into Tristan's heart. A scream of pure agony escaped the prince. Falling to the ground, he heard the cheers of the traitors. He lay on the ground helpless, too far away to call for help. It was over.

This was the end of his life. As short as it was, it was his life. He'd miss his family, friends, and country. Darkness began to creep around his mind and blind him from everything around him. Tristan closed his eyes.

"_Tristan…"_

It was the voice from his dreams! He would have opened his eyes, but he passed out before he could get the chance.

Meanwhile the traitor who had stabbed Tristan, ran back to the others. Looking over the dead guards, he grinned. "Gentlemen!" the traitor yelled. "The Prince of France…is dead!"

Cheers went all around, "Now back home to celebrate our victory!" The traitors ran off leaving the sight.

Alera ran to the unconscious Prince. Sitting next to him, she placed her ear against his chest. There was a heartbeat; he was alive. Silently and quickly, Alera moved her hands to the wound. It was deep; she knew she did not have long to act. Even _she _did not have the power to raise the dead.

Closing her eyes tightly, she grasped the dagger and pulled it out. Her eyes opened. Blood was pouring out of the prince's side. This was her moment. Placing her hand on the opening, she breathed, clearing her thoughts. As she spoke the words of magic that were more sounds than words, her hand lit up, casting a mystical glow on the wound.

Quickly the wound closed and healed. Then the light surrounding her hand vanished. She was weak from the spell now, but happy. Looking it over, Alera grinned. This wasn't so hard!

Tristan was still unconscious. She had to take him to cover, but she could not carry him, and waking him up would not be the best idea, as he was weak. Looking around, Alera could see no way of moving him.

She noticed an old tree large enough to shield them from the oncoming rain. Sighing, Alera stood, took Tristan by the arms and began to try to pull him over to the tree. Finally she got him there. Collapsing to the ground next to the Prince, Alera breathed heavily from the exertion.

The skies were dark, and suddenly rain began to pour down. "Oh no…" Alera whined. Removing her black cloak, she covered the Prince.

Tristan was now more protected from the rain and could rest. Unfortunately for Alera she'd have to go with being soaked, and wait for the rain to end. Lying next to Tristan, she moved as much of herself as she could under the cloak without disturbing him. Looking in Tristan's direction, she found it was too dark to see his perfect face. What she'd give right now to see him.

Soon she herself drifted off to sleep to the sound of Tristan's soft breathing, all too happy that he _was_ still breathing. She was unaware of the destruction taking place at her home.

…

Jessamine watched in despair as her beloved land was destroyed right before her eyes. For to her dismay, the wickedest Enchanter in the land had returned, and was seeking revenge against her for defeating him in a war many years ago.

"Greetings, dear Jessamine."

Her face went pale as she turned to face _him_. The Enchanter before her looked as cold as the soul inside him.

"What are you doing here, Radut?!" Jessamine hissed.

Radut pouted mockingly. "Is that how you treat guests?"

Glaring at him defiantly, she snapped, "You are no guest in these lands! What is your purpose here?!"

The man just laughed, then walked toward Jessamine, his movements at once graceful and menacing. "Why am I here?" He grinned. "I think you know why." With that Radut waved his hand, and immediate a burst of energy threw Jessamine to the floor.

He took out a wand. "I hear your daughter is out saving humans," he commented with studied casualness. "Just as you have done many times before; you must be _so _proud."

Fear gripped Jessamine's heart at the mention of her daughter. "Alera? Why are you bringing her up?" Jessamine asked suspiciously, still on the floor. Hitting the wall had taken a lot out of her.

He shrugged. "No reason," he said breezily. "I was just thinking…after I finish you off, I might pay her a little visit…"

Jessamine shot a cold stare at Radut. "Don't! Don't you even _think_ of it!"

Radut cocked an eyebrow. "Oh I would beg to differ, Jessamine!" Positioning his wand her direction, he sighed. "I'm sorry to cut my visit short, but there is so much to do…so little time."

Jessamine's eyes widened in fear. "Please! Don't do this!" But she knew it was no use. Desperately, the enchantress tried to reach for her wand, lying on the floor just out of reach.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blinding light coming toward her. Then it hit her, engulfing her. She scrunched in pain, screaming in agony as her life faded. She saw that Radut was gone. Darkness was coming upon her; she had to work fast. Moving as quickly as she could, Jessamine reached her own wand.

Closing her eyes, she breathed heavily, working her magic, and the wand turned into the mirror -- the same mirror she had given the Beast those many years ago…It pained Jessamine, but she had to do what was to come. Taking the mirror she thrashed it against a nearby wall, where it shattered into many pieces. Lying down to die, Jessamine knew now that Alera would be somewhat more safe. …but she would not be able to ever return. Alera's mirror now would just be a regular mirror, and a memory.

"Goodbye to all," Jessamine breathed, as her breathing slowed. "And…death to Radut…may he die a thousand deaths for the lives he has taken…" Jessamine finished, letting death take her.

****

**_Thanks to TrudiRose for her great beta work! R&R!_**


	4. Chapter Four

Tristan rubbed his head. His entire body was sore and wet. He groaned, "Wha-what happened?...What is on me?!" Roughly he removed the fabric that was on top of him. It was a cloak, and damp from the rain. That would explain why he was wet.

_Why am I on the ground? Where am I? _Tristan asked himself. Then everything that had occurred came back to his memory. The attack, him fighting, then…when he was stabbed.

Color drained from his face, and his body became stiff and cold. Slowly he sat up and leaned against a nearby tree. Raising his hand, he placed it on his chest to the exact area where there _should _have been a wound, no wound remained, not even a scratch!

_Did it even happen at all? _Tristan wondered. But he knew it had. A swift look at his torn, bloodstained shirt confirmed it. He had been stabbed, yet he was still living. He could not move or think; he was too taken aback to come to realization that _something_ unexplainable had saved him from death.

"Um…Prince Tristan?"

Instantly he was up on his feet, looking at the young woman who had called his name. Her face showed uneasiness, and yet also relief.

Alera could barely contain the joy she found on seeing him awake and well. "How are you feeling, your majesty?" she asked, just wanting to make sure before she came to the conclusion that he was perfectly well.

Tristan stared at her. Words wanted to come forth, but they would not come. He was so confused, and he needed answers. The girl still looked at him, anxiously waiting.

"I-I-I…How...Do you know how I…" The things he was trying to say could not come together. Fear still lingered within him.

_What is wrong with him? _Alera thought. Did the magic have a bad effect upon him? She moved to stand next to him. "Are you--."

"What happened to me?!" Tristan rushed out, interrupting her. His blood was racing and his head was dizzy with nerves.

"Oh! So that is…" Alera had not planned on how she would tell the Prince why he was still alive. "…Well, that is kind of complicated."

A look of sheer anger came across Tristan's face, "How on Earth is it complicated to explain?! Why am I alive?!"

"It is not complicated to explain!" Alera snapped back. She would not tolerate such rudeness, especially from the person she had just saved from death. "What I mean is that it won't be easy for you to believe."

"How is it difficult to believe you did it…didn't you?"

"Yes, I did it, but again it is not hard for _me _to believe, but for _you_."

His patience was running thin, "Fine, just…what did you do to me?"

He would believe her or he wouldn't: there was only one way to find out. "I…healed you Prince Tristan, with magic."

There was a moment of silence before the Prince broke into a laughing fit.

"What is so funny?!" Alera asked, appalled.

"Just…just," Tristan tried to silence his laughter. After all the tension, the girl's unexpectedly ridiculous statement, combined with her serious expression, seemed hilarious to him. The very idea of using "magic" to heal him! He calmed himself down. "I'm sorry, but there is no way you could have used magic to heal me. There is no such thing."

Alera was confused. "No such thing as magic? Then what about your father, your servants?" Alera questioned.

"What about them?" Tristan asked, puzzled.

They hadn't told him. Alera realized. She couldn't use his father as an example. "Never mind them, but I did use magic to save you, regardless of whether you believe it or not."

_This girl should be locked up in the asylum! _Tristan thought. "Magic does not exist."

"Yes it does!"

"Magic may exist in books, but outside in the real world magic is as unreal as fairies!"

"How would you know?!" Alera snapped. "You're human! You can't see fairies!"

The two glared at one another, waiting for the next move. Tristan, who was close to losing his sanity with this girl, gave up and ran in the direction his men should be, yelling behind him "Magic is not real!"

Tristan was unprepared for what he discovered at the site of the attack. His loyal soldiers lay bloody, frozen, and dead on the dirt ground. This couldn't be happening! Tristan bowed his head respectfully to them; murmuring a prayer. As he finished, his throat began to close up. If that crazy girl could save _him,_ why couldn't she save them?

Then again, deep down, Tristan did not want to know. This was all too insane for him to understand. Eyes closed for a moment, he cleared his thoughts and focused on one thing: to go home. Once he was back home, things would be sorted out, with that comforting thought in mind, he began his trek home

Alera went in the opposite direction. This had not gone as she had planned at all. All she wished to do now was return home. Grabbing her bag, she pulled from it her mirror. She cleared her mind and pushed away her feelings.

"Take me home!"

The mirror rested in her hands. She was still where she stood. She tried again to summon the magic…and again. Alera began to panic. Why was the mirror not working? The only reason her mirror would stop working would be if her mother's mirror had stopped working, since they were magically linked. Had something happened to her mother?

Her hands shaking, she put the mirror back inside the bag. The only means of getting her home was not working and she was in an unfamiliar place.

Her throat began to close up. _What do I do now?!_ _I can't stay here by myself…maybe Tristan…_

"Prince Tristan!" Alera cried, running in the direction he had gone. As she ran, she thought of how she would lie to him. He wouldn't even consider letting her come with him if she kept on talking about magic. Yet thinking of a lie was difficult – her thoughts were filled with worry over what could have caused the mirror to stop working. She put that thought aside and continued her run to reach Tristan.

_**AN: Thank you for reading, and please review I'd like to know what you think of it. Thanks so much to TrudiRose, who wonderfully edited this chapter!**_


	5. Chapter Five

Alera stared unseeingly into the flickering flames before her. Thoughts of her mother and the never-ending questions of how she would get home to Jessamine continued to return to her mind. She had no one to talk to about them with. Talking to Tristan about it would be a great mistake, one that she would _not_ make. Tristan had grudgingly allowed her to accompany him only after she had begged to come along, but he still insisted she had been lying about magic. At least he had allowed her to come. That alone was a blessing.

The prince snapped a twig in two as he glared at the girl. He leaned against a tree so he could watch her every move. He was completely confused by her; after everything that had happened, she had not mentioned magic once! In fact, she hadn't said a word to him since they had started on their way. Maybe he could talk to her…No that was impossible, she could be some lunatic! That was probably her plan: make him talk to her first, become _friendly _with him! Then before he would be able to get home he'd be tied up to some tree, and that freak would be doing crazy stuff to him that she would call "magic"! Ha! Like he would let that happen to him! No way, not on his--.

"Do you know how far away we are from the nearest village?"

"What?!" Tristan asked as he jumped back a little.

"How far away are we from the village?" Alera repeated. "Do you know where we are?"

Tristan hadn't been expecting _that._ Backtracking through his memory, he tried to remember how long the journey from the castle had initially taken. "In a carriage it took at least a full day, maybe two. You aren't familiar with this area?"

"I don't live here or anywhere near here," Alera told him. "I'm…visiting."

"Oh," Tristan replied as he nodded. The awkward silence returned. Tristan resumed breaking twigs one by one.

Minutes turned into hours, and Tristan was growing bored and tired. It had to be late now. He examined Alera's face for any hint that she would be sleeping soon. Maybe he would be able to sleep a little without worrying that she would do something to him. But seeing that she appeared wide awake, he groaned in annoyance as he plopped to the floor.

"Yes?" Alera said, "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Tristan huffed, his eyes growing heavy.

"Are you tired?"

"What do you think?" Tristan snapped.

Alera kept quiet, stunned by his comment. She looked at him coldly. "I'm sorry I am unfortunately not a mind reader! Would you feel more comfortable if I went to sleep now, _Your Majesty?_" She angrily pulled her cloak tightly around her she lay down with her back to him.. _How untrustworthy do I look? _Alera thought angrily._ I saved his life, for goodness' sake!_

A pang of regret struck through Tristan. He shouldn't have said that to her. Yes, she was crazy, but you don't say something like that to a crazy person or a lady, and sadly she was both. His expression became remorseful. "Um…uh…I'm sorry Miss…Miss…"

"Alera."

"What?" Tristan asked.

"That is my name. Alera."

"Alera. I'm sorry, Alera. I shouldn't have said that to you. I hope that you will accept my apologies," Tristan said softly.

She kept quiet for a moment, running what he had said in her mind over and over again. It sounded sincere enough. She sat up, smiling softly. "All right. Apology accepted."

Tristan smiled back at her. "Good."

"Now, good night, Prince Tristan," Alera said, lying back down. She felt better. Maybe he would trust her now. "See you in the morning."

"Sweet dreams, Miss Alera," Tristan said as he lay down.,Once he was sure that Alera was asleep he let himself sleep, feeling a fraction more safe. _Maybe she isn't too crazy_, Tristan thought right before he fell asleep.

…

"Please dear, just relax," Vincent said. "I'm sure Tristan will be sending us word soon of his arrival. We just have to be patient." He hated seeing Belle so worried, and he was growing annoyed at watching his wife _and_ daughters mope around the castle waiting for something from Tristan. Yet with every passing day, deep down he too was becoming more and more concerned.

"I can't help it; I won't be able to relax until I know he is in Italy and is safe!" Belle replied as she continued her pacing in front of the main door. "We should have heard from him two days ago...I should have never let him go there."

"Belle, he is a man now, not a boy. This will be good for him! Now come with me and let's go to the library. A good book is just what you need." _Hopefully that will take her mind off of things_, Vincent thought optimistically. He looked into her eyes pleadingly. "Please, Belle? For me?"

Belle couldn't say no. She knew he was worried about her and the girls. "All right," she agreed as she took his hand. "I believe that is exactly what I need."

As the two walked together to the library, Lumiere rushed in from the kitchen, Cogsworth following right behind him.

"Lumiere! I said stop!" Cogsworth said as he tried to catch up to the man.

The taller man rolled his eyes as he stopped to face Cogsworth. "What is it now? I've done my duties for the day!"

"Yes, I know, for the first time in a _very _long time you've actually done what you were told, and I thank you! But that was not what I wanted to talk to you about at all." Cogsworth said. "It is about_ your _son!"

Lumiere sighed. "What now?"

"To start I'm sad to report that your son has followed in your footsteps when it come to work…namely, he _doesn't_ work!" Cogsworth fumed. "I constantly see him dallying with girls, and whenever I try to set him on the right path, he goes and runs off somewhere!"

"Well, I wonder why…" Lumiere replied sarcastically. "Why on earth would he want to avoid you?"

"Lumiere…please be serious! He is your son so I expect _you _to take care of him!"

"Don't count on it," Lumiere murmured.

"What was that?"

_Knock, knock._

"Oh dear," Cogsworth hurried to the door. He opened it to find a tall, pale man. "May I help you?"

"Oh, I hope so!" the man said desperately. "I lost my way in the woods and need a place to stay…can you help me?"Lumiere and Cogsworth exchanged a look. "Of course monsieur," Lumiere said cheerfully as he opened the door wider. "Please come in."

"Thank you," the man said as he walked in. Once his back was to them, he allowed himself a cunning smile, but as Cogsworth approached, he immediately rearranged his features into a look of weary gratitude.

Cogsworth took the coat and hat the man gave him. "Um…your name sir?" he asked, showing the man to a guest room.

The man smiled a crooked smile that made the hairs on the back of the other two men's necks stand up. "My name is Radut."

....

_A bunch of "thank yous" to TrudiRose for Betaing!!! :) Thank you for reading!_


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